


- moral of the story ( 𝐄. 𝐕.)

by dissidentvedder



Series: 𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐥 𝐣𝐚𝐦 [1]
Category: Pearl Jam
Genre: F/M, x Reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:33:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23950876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dissidentvedder/pseuds/dissidentvedder
Summary: your marriage to eddie vedder after a bad divorce.A/N - layout by @adoresobs!  the high school ballerina part was inspired by teenage ballerina Kayla Mak, and this was inspired by Ashe’s song, Moral of the Story.
Relationships: Eddie Vedder/Reader
Series: 𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐥 𝐣𝐚𝐦 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1731328
Kudos: 4





	- moral of the story ( 𝐄. 𝐕.)

  * your marriage to eddie vedder after a bad divorce.
  * A/N - layout by [@adoresobs](https://adoresobs.tumblr.com/)! the high school ballerina part was inspired by teenage ballerina [Kayla Mak](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DndbmEEysKQo&t=ODYzMjgwMmEwMDgwOWRkZWI0NWM2ZTE2NDZkMmM5ZTkxODdiOWJiMSw0OTFhYTUwYzAzNjEyZGRmYzU1YzY5Yjg1MTg3MzMwOTBkNWFkZDRh), and this was inspired by Ashe’s song, [Moral of the Story](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DWQq98YPV8yk&t=YzdhOGU3NmVkZTI5Njc1YzJkNzIxMTk5NTg0MmE0NGFiMWZjYzJjOSw1MTU3NWMxNGFlZTM5OTIxMDgwYjU2MGFjM2VkMjEzYzVmNTVmMWFi).
  * [𝐌 𝐀 𝐒 𝐓 𝐄 𝐑 𝐋 𝐈 𝐒 𝐓](https://dissident-vedder.tumblr.com/post/614494030700675072/%F0%9D%96%89%F0%9D%96%8E%F0%9D%96%98%F0%9D%96%98%F0%9D%96%8E%F0%9D%96%89%F0%9D%96%8A%F0%9D%96%93%F0%9D%96%99-%F0%9D%96%9B%F0%9D%96%8A%F0%9D%96%89%F0%9D%96%89%F0%9D%96%8A%F0%9D%96%97%F0%9D%96%98-%F0%9D%96%92%F0%9D%96%86%F0%9D%96%98%F0%9D%96%99%F0%9D%96%8A%F0%9D%96%97%F0%9D%96%91%F0%9D%96%8E%F0%9D%96%98%F0%9D%96%99)



  


when you were eighteen, you married your high school sweetheart, believing him to be _the one_ , the one to make sure you were at your best, the one to give you pure, unadulterated happiness, the one who was there when you chased your dreams of being a principal ballerina at the pacific northwest ballet. you had been dancing there for a big part of your life after you moved from georgia to seattle, your parents wanting you to go one of the top ballet schools in the u.s. to make sure you had a step forward. heading into high school, you were disciplined, eating only the cleanest foods, spending most of your time between the dance studio (which you attended six days out of the week), school, and, during the christmas season, dancing as one of the roles in _the nutcracker_ (you liked playing a little swan). 

you had met mark in your sophomore year and when you had to go to the ballet studio, he would ride the bus with you there, the both of you helping each other with your homework. on the day you didn’t go to the studio, he would spend some time with you, and would go home afterwards, knowing that, if it was the weekend, you’d like to be with your family for half a day or more. 

once the two of you graduated and married shortly after (it was a very small ceremony), you realized that it was all a fantasy. when the two of you were painting your new house just like your grandparents did, the two of you were arguing, him cutting into your throat with malicious words, while you tried to defend yourself with facts. almost every single day he would throw horrible assumptions at you, such as the man that you hugged the other day was someone you were cheating on him with, but it was your father (he had been at the wedding). mark forced you to quit ballet (you didn’t, you continued going when he was at work), and would almost force you to eat more, to make sure you gained weight and to “make sure no other man would look at you”. 

you refused and on the day of your first anniversary, you finalized the divorce papers, remembering how your lawyer looked at you and asked, “where’d you find this guy?”

“young people fall in love with the wrong people sometimes,” you answered her, small tears falling down your cheeks.

“some mistakes get made, that’s alright, that’s okay, you can think that you’re in love when you’re really just in pain,” she hugged you tightly, rubbing your scalp lightly with the pads of her fingers as you cried into her shoulder. 

“in the end, it’s better for me,” you sniffled, “that’s the moral of the story.” 

standing in the first stoop of your former home, bags packed in your car, boxes of furniture and decor in the van, fear in your heart as you thought of what to tell your mother, tears stinging your eyes as you began to believe that you were never going to find the love your parent found in each other. 

you had found a new home in the edge of a forest, close to the city yet away from people, no longer wanting to stay in the house that had so many fights caused within its walls. too many skeletons in the closet for you to handle. 

**1990:**

you were finally 24 years old, and 5 years had passed since you had divorced. you haven’t gotten into a relationship until recently, fearful of what would happen if you did. a man named eddie recently moved to seattle, the two of you being introduced to each other by stone gossard, and you began seeing each other a few months prior. he was extremely sweet, caring for your well-being, supporting your position as principal ballerina at _pnb_ , taking you on dates whenever he could, and showing you that you were loved. 

**1994:**

you and eddie married in rome, italy and honeymooned in santorini, greece, the beautiful red and black sand beaches becoming a second home for your mind and body as eddie surfed on the brilliant blue waters, which was something you laughed about. “the only thing that can outmatch the color of that water are your eyes,” you told him a ridiculous compliment, laughing when he scruched up his nose. since you’ve met, he has released 3 albums and a few singles, rising to stardom as soon as _ten_ was released. people loved eddie for his enthusiasm and energy during shows, climbing the speakers and rafters, keeping everyone on their toes as they wondered where he would climb next.

**2004:**

you squeezed eddie’s hand as you pushed, feeling the infamous “ring of fire” your mother told you about when the head crowned, face scrunching up as unbelievable pain coursed through your body. all for a little baby. one final push was all it took before you felt the body exit your body, a baby’s high-pitched cries filling your ears as you saw the blood-covered human get carried off in a blanket to get everything done. tears of happiness escaped your eyes, looking up to eddie, who was looking at you with the happiest smile on his face, and the two of you kissed, happy that olivia was finally here. 

**2008:**

another child, another birth. olivia was finally four years old, eddie had recently turned 43, and you were only 41. it was late september, so olivia was currently bundled in thick blankets outside of the hospital room you were pushing in, the pain still a new concept to you. “you’ll never get used to the pain of childbirth,” eddie’s mother told you, causing you to silently freak out as you placed a hand on your stomach. you were scared, wondering what the baby would be like. it was a risky pregnancy, you were already in your 40s, and a lot of women suffered miscarriages and stillborns at this age. however, harper just happened to make it through, piercing cries filling the air as you breathed a sigh of relief. her little lungs carried so much air, so much _life_. 

**2020:**

stuck in quarantine, you wished that you were able to go to a shop with your daughters, or on a date with eddie. you watched harper do flips on the trampoline in your backyard, olivia inside the house getting guitar lessons from her dad. with the release of their new album, _gigaton_ , olivia has been bugging eddie to teach her the notes to _take the long way_ , the 55 year old finally giving in. the sun was out, a rarity in washington state, allowing harper and yourself to wear your swimsuits, sitting on the grass as harper called out to you, “this is a front walkover.” 

this was a rarity in itself, having everyone home without anyone having to go to school or to work (olivia) during the day. you smiled at your youngest daughter as you cheered her on.


End file.
